35. ASHPUTTEL

The wife of a rich man fell sick; and when she felt that her end drew
nigh, she called her only daughter to her bed-side, and said, 'Always
be a good girl, and I will look down from heaven and watch over you.'
Soon afterwards she shut her eyes and died, and was buried in the
garden; and the little girl went every day to her grave and wept, and
was always good and kind to all about her. And the snow fell and
spread a beautiful white covering over the grave; but by the time the
spring came, and the sun had melted it away again, her father had
married another wife. This new wife had two daughters of her own, that
she brought home with her; they were fair in face but foul at heart,
and it was now a sorry time for the poor little girl. 'What does the
good-for-nothing want in the parlour?' said they; 'they who would eat
bread should first earn it; away with the kitchen-maid!' Then they
took away her fine clothes, and gave her an old grey frock to put on,
and laughed at her, and turned her into the kitchen.

There she was forced to do hard work; to rise early before daylight,
to bring the water, to make the fire, to cook and to wash. Besides
that, the sisters plagued her in all sorts of ways, and laughed at
her. In the evening when she was tired, she had no bed to lie down on,
but was made to lie by the hearth among the ashes; and as this, of
course, made her always dusty and dirty, they called her Ashputtel.

It happened once that the father was going to the fair, and asked his
wife's daughters what he should bring them. 'Fine clothes,' said the
first; 'Pearls and diamonds,' cried the second. 'Now, child,' said he
to his own daughter, 'what will you have?' 'The first twig, dear
father, that brushes against your hat when you turn your face to come
homewards,' said she. Then he bought for the first two the fine
clothes and pearls and diamonds they had asked for: and on his way
home, as he rode through a green copse, a hazel twig brushed against
him, and almost pushed off his hat: so he broke it off and brought it
away; and when he got home he gave it to his daughter. Then she took
it, and went to her mother's grave and planted it there; and cried so
much that it was watered with her tears; and there it grew and became
a fine tree. Three times every day she went to it and cried; and soon
a little bird came and built its nest upon the tree, and talked with
her, and watched over her, and brought her whatever she wished for.